Page 9 of Christmas Heat
Julius and Tenor grumble about the dangers of fevers and untreated pneumonia, but they do let her go back to sleep after taking her temperature once more and making her swallow two Tylenol pills.
When she wakes again, she's snuggled into her nest with her alphas all around her, purring a low soothing sound. Her mouth feels like it's been stuffed with cotton balls. She tries to swallow and winces when it feels like her throat is on fire. She lets her eyes slide shut again, the call of sleep too heavy to ignore. Being awake hurts too much.
She barely remembers drifting off, only the sensation of Julius' hand sweeping hair from her forehead as she shivers with cold and burrows deeper into his warmth. All of it feels far away now, like a dream she's fallen into and can't quite climb out of.
Sometime later, when she finally peels her eyes open for longer than a second, the world is blurry and the light is dim. The cottage is quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the soft padding sounds of one of their footsteps, like they're trying to be quiet so they don't wake her. A hand reaches from behind her to stroke her cheek. Her skin feels prickly and uncomfortable, both way too hot and freezing cold.
"Eden, sweetheart, are you awake?" It's Tenor's voice, soft and worried.
She tries to answer, but it just comes out as a bullfrog croak. "Mmm."
"Poor baby," he murmurs. "You feel any better?"
She shakes her head, immediately regretting it as her temples throb.
Luke leans over, tucking her against his front and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "She's still warm," he says. "Take some more Tylenol, baby. You'll feel better soon."
She can't even scent them because her nose is so blocked and she whines a little, missing their wood and earth and lily scents.
"Oh, baby girl," Julius' voice joins them then, but she can't summon the energy to raise her head to look at him. Worry etches between his brows when his head floats into her vision. "Here, take this."
A few pills are pushed between her lips, followed by a straw of lukewarm water. Julius holds it steady as she drinks and her throat screams as it goes down. After a few mouthfuls, she pulls back.
"We got you some cough syrup too, you want some of that? Might help your sore throat and congestion?" Tenor's voice behind her sounds equally concerned.
She pushes a feeling of acceptance towards them through the bond, not having the energy to answer physically. Tenor makes a startled noise as she does it, but then a small plastic cup is pushed against her lips, and she lets them pour the foul-tasting viscous fluid in her mouth.
She goes back to sleep just so they don't try to dose her with it again.
Eighteen Days Until Christmas
Eden
When she wakes next, blinding white light is pouring in through the windows and her alphas are all asleep in the nest around her.
She feels a small smile pull at her face at the sight of them as the memories of them holding her through her fever come back, although it all feels strangely hazy and disjointed.
She feels marginally better than she did yesterday, at least. She doesn't think she even had energy to smile yesterday. You'd think that after working with little plague rat school children for years, her immune system would be stronger than this, but apparently not.
'Tis the season (for colds and flus)...
She feels a disgusting glob of snot start leaking down her nostril as she huffs out a small laugh through her nose. Oh god, shecould not let her mates see her leaking snot everywhere. They'd never look at her the same again.
She still hasn't mastered the art of wiggling out of the nest without waking them and she's definitely not at her peak right now, so the minute she starts trying to disentangle herself from the sheets, there are three sleep-tousled alphas sitting up and crowding around her, staring directly at her and the green alien life form dripping from her sinuses.
"Good morning, baby," Tenor says, reaching out a hand to feel her forehead. "Oh thank fuck, the fever's broken. You feeling better?"
She nods and holds a hand out in front of her face, trying to block them from seeing her slimy shame.
"I need a tissue!" Her voice still sounds hoarse and nasally. If anything, it was worse than yesterday, but that's not her problem right now.
Luke pulls a Kleenex out of nowhere and holds it up to her nose like she's a child. And sure, they might do some weird daddy roleplay, and she didn't mind when they bathed or dressed or fed her usually. But this?
No. No, no, no, no.
"Blow," Luke says then, furrowing his eyebrows at her.
"Just give me–"
